


It's a hard job being the family disappointment, but someone has to step up and take one for the team.

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Break Up, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Romance, Running Away, Sad, Self-Harm, Temper Tantrums, Violence, Young Genji Shimada, Young Hanzo Shimada
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 05:43:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20326051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Genji wants to live life free of the expectations that come with being a Shimada, and does so, but when he receives a horric letter from his Father, he's forced to make a choice that will change everything. For everyone.





	It's a hard job being the family disappointment, but someone has to step up and take one for the team.

**Author's Note:**

> Orphaned this because I don't want it to be associated with my account anymore or my over overwatch oneshots anymore, however its still something I spent time on and is written to an acceptable quality so I wanted to leave it up. Enjoy.

Genji stared at the wall, irritated. He sat on the floor in his room, hands in his lap, scratching nervously at the inside of his wrist, reddening the skin around his tattoo. His coloured hair had faded slightly, the black roots growing in, unusual for him. Tears clung to his eyelashes.

  
The boy closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall, allowing a few tears to slip before another wave of red hot anger took over him. Genji reared back, punching the wall with surprising strength, before crying out. Tattooed knuckles bled and his fingers were swelling. He took another swing, tears streaming steady down his cheeks, reddening his eyes. The only thing left to destroy in the room was himself, earlier tantrum causing him to lash out. The posters that sat proudly on his green walls had been torn down; photo frames from his desk had been shattered, leaving his palms raw and bleeding from the shattered glass. His katana, a family heirloom that had been passed down to him, kept in a display box above his bed and never touched, had been thrown. The sword was on the floor somewhere, the remains of the display case mingling with the rest of the shattered glass and torn paper that resided in a sickly parade all about his room. Draws were emptied, contents carelessly hurled across the room. Genji screamed, hands yanking on his hair, before ramming his body into the wall. He slid down, hitting the floor with a thump, sobbing.

  
Genji had never lost control like this.

  
His father had always been pressuring. While Hanzo was the heir to the family business, Genji still needed to be perfect. All his life he had been groomed and trained into being the perfect little pet of his father’s. No thoughts, no feelings. He hated it. He didn’t want it.

  
Genji had spoken to his Father frequently when he first arrived at College. Attempting to tell the sombre man about his experiences before he was interrupted by his father’s demanding questions about Hanzo. It irritated Genji, and when Hanzo started dating McCree he made sure to keep it a secret from their family.

  
Things changed when he met Angela.

He had spent less time talking to his father, more time with her. They had talked, and she had understood, _cared_. Genji had told her about his father as she dressed a cut on his brow, proudly acquired from a harsh tumble down the stairs. She was the first girl Genji had loved, not just some petty, teen crush.He wanted to spend time with her. 

When he’d told this to his father, and he had taken in Angela critically through the screen of the tablet, Genji felt angry. No one treated his girlfriend that way.

  
So he started to ignore his father. Genji never opened text messages, never responded to emails and declined calls. He was a free man. He hated his father. He hated the Shimadas’ company. And he hated his home.

  
He was with Angela when the letter arrived. She had stepped into his room, still happy to see him even though the stress of her medical degree was getting to her.

  
“I thought I’d bring you your mail,” she said smiling, German accent adoring her words as she handed Genji a single letter.

  
Genji smiled as he spoke, “Thank you.”

  
She had sat down next to him on his bed, opening one of her text books, content in the presence of her significant other, no words needed.

  
Genji had opened the letter quickly, curious at the oddly outdated form of communication. He unfolded the paper just as fast, thin and nimble fingers gripping it tightly as keen eyes scanned the lines of neat text.

  
He froze.

  
He looked upon the paper again, hands trembling. Reading and re reading the awful, horrible, terrifying text that adorned the page, it’s neatness merely a pleasant disguise hiding its true meaning.

  
He read it again, a stab of fear in his heart.

  
The details of the letter made his stomach twist in awful knots. How his father had found him a bride, some daughter of some other old, fat _bastard_ who was keen to keep him locked away under his father’s rule. How their wedding would mean the joining of the two businesses, peace between past enemies. How he would return to Japan, whether he liked it or not. How if he refused, his father would give the orders for Angela to be killed.

  
“Genji?”

  
She must of noticed his change in attitude.  
Angela shuffled towards him, leaning into his side. She traced the intricate lines of his tattoo with her thin fingers, kissing him on the shoulder with a gentleness he didn’t deserve._ I can’t allow them to hurt her._ “Is there something wrong?”

  
Angela picked up the letter he had dropped on the floor moments before she moved. Noticing how his hands shook, fingers twitching violently. The meaning was lost to her when she realised the letter was in Japanese. She looked up at him again, concerned, carefully caressing the muscles of his shoulder in an attempt to soothe his sudden anxiousness.

  
In that moment, Genji knew what he had to do.

  
He shrugged her off roughly, making her flinch. He immediately felt guilty but pushed those feelings aside. _I’ll deal with it later_.

  
He grabbed her wrists, pulling them up to his face, giving her a gentle kiss on each hand._ I need to hurt her to save her. _

  
“Angela, we can’t be together any more.” He said it sternly, eyes cold, no sign of emotion in his face or voice.

  
She laughed at first. Shoving him lightly at the _obvious joke_. When his face didn’t change, her laughter slowed to an awkward chuckle, before dying all together.

  
“You’re joking, right?”

  
“No.”

  
“Genji, why?” he heard the pain in her voice now, the first sign of tears, and looked away. He couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of her pain.

  
“It’s for your own goo-”

  
She slapped him, strong, steady hand colliding hard with his cheekbone.

  
“How is it for my own good? You can’t just decide to dump someone whenever you feel like it Genji, that’s not how feelings work!” She was fighting to keep her voice steady, battling to stay composed. _I don’t want to shout at her._ “It’s about the this isn’t it?” she yelled, picking up the letter again. His silence confirmed her suspicion. “What does it say, Genji? Whatever it is your family is doing I can help you.”

  
“You can’t help me now Angela, simply by being here your putting yourself in danger! You need to leave,” his voice was firm, raised slightly but hadn’t developed into a shout. He sounded like Hanzo, and it scared him.

  
She stood up. “I’m not just leaving you Genji! You can’t just expect me to walk away from what we have. I _love_ you.”

  
Tears were streaming down her face now, smudging her mascara and ruining the neat, composed demeanour she fought to maintain. Genji hated every fibre of his being in that moment. He wanted to hold her, to tell her he loved her back. He wanted to grab her, pack their bangs and run off somewhere where his father wouldn’t find them, but he knew that was impossible.

  
He stood, towering over her, making himself as large as possible. _I need to make her understand. _

  
“Get _out_."

  
She was silent, staring back at him, slowly shaking her head.

  
“Get _out_, Angela! If you truly love me you’ll never come here again! You’ll never speak to me or Hanzo again!”

  
His face had reddened and his eyes watered as he screamed the terrible words, ending everything they’d ever built in a sentence. He turned his back to her, showing her that there would be no more discussion. Her final words broke him.

  
“I thought you were different, Genji.”

  
He heard the shuffling noise that told him she was stuffing her books in her bag. He didn’t turn back. Even when the door creaked open he couldn’t turn to look at her. Only when he heard the slam of the door did he break, shoulders shaking as sobs wracked his body. He screamed, emotional pain destroying him from the inside, and swung his fist at the wall.

  
The only sounds that could be heard from within his room for the next hour where screams and smashes and shattering glass, anguished yells of_ I hate you_ and Japanese cursing echoing from within.

  
And so he curled against the wall, struggling to keep his breaths steady. Hanzo opened the door slowly, peaking around the corner and stepping in gingerly. Genji ignored his brother.

  
Hanzo looked around the room at the destruction, eyes widening before looking at Genji again.

  
“Father said you haven’t been replying to his emails.”

  
Genji grabbed a discarded photo frame and threw it, with trained accuracy, at his brothers head. Hanzo dodged it. Instead shuffling closer and sitting down next to his brother.

  
“_That bad_?” he asked, slipping into their mother tongue in an attempt to comfort the still crying Genji.

  
“_Worse_."

  
“_Want to talk about it_?”

  
“_No_.”

  
Genji was surprised that Hanzo hadn’t been told about his punishment. _Or maybe he has_. Genji didn’t know who to trust anymore. “I’m leaving,” Genji said matter of factly, switching back to English.

  
“Where are you going?”

  
“I can’t tell you.”

  
Hanzo placed his hands on his brother’s shoulder, eyes pleading with him to speak, but Genji didn’t acknowledge him. Instead the younger man got up, grabbing a bag from the floor and packing it quickly.

  
“Genji you don’t have t-”

  
“Shut up Hanzo.”

  
He was leaving, running for as long as he could, praying Angela did as he said. He would shame the Shimada name. Tell everyone what they did. Shut the business down.

  
Genji left, running._ It can’t get any worse than this. _

  
_Hard and fast, trained hands gripped his collar, pinning him to the wall. “Let me go, Hanzo! You’re hurting me!”_

  
_The other man punched him hard in the gut. _  
_“I’m sorry, brother. I do what I must.”_

  
_He pulled a knife from his pocket._

  
_Blood dribbled from his hands._

  
_ Hanzo cried._


End file.
